Chapter 48
The night was ink-black when Emily Smith pushed open the door to her apartment at Jinzhou Bay, greeted by a wave of biting cold.
The crystal chandelier bathed the living room in bright light.
William Johnson's deep American accent resonated in the entryway, each syllable sharp as ice shards.
Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag.
The morning's office confrontation flashed through her mind.
Her fingertips turned cold.
This was William Johnson.
How dare she—
The shoe cabinet clicked softly. Emily slipped into her slippers and saw the man seated rigidly on the sofa, his chiseled profile illuminated by the cold glow of his laptop.
The video conference was still ongoing.
He didn't even blink.
The master bedroom door was slightly ajar. Emily tiptoed inside and had just changed into loungewear when the doorbell shattered the silence.
Olivia Davis's crimson lips glared from the security screen.
"Mr. Johnson is busy." Emily blocked the doorway, deliberately knocking over a soup tureen as she took the meal cart. Scalding broth splashed onto the other woman's silk dress.
Olivia's shriek was cut off by the closing door.
The sweet and sour pork ribs glistened on the dining table. Emily set out the dishes just as William removed his Bluetooth earpiece.
The way he rolled up his sleeves resembled disassembling a firearm.
"Try this." She picked up a shrimp with trembling chopsticks, holding it midair.
He ignored the porcelain spoon entirely.
The glass turntable screeched.
The balcony door slid open and shut. Night wind carried fragments of a woman's voice from his phone call—"operating room," "lead surgeon."
Amid the dishwasher's hum, Emily opened the new script Daniel Chen had sent.
"This monologue needs more fragility," the director's voice instructed through her headphones. "Imagine having your ribs ripped out."
The digital clock glowed eerie blue in the early hours.
William loosened his tie as he passed the hallway. A sliver of light escaped from a cracked door, carving a golden triangle on the carpet.
"...he pinned me against the mirror by my throat—"
The girl's gasping voice behind the door suddenly pitched higher.
"...said my eyes..."
William's knuckles hovered above the doorknob. He narrowed his eyes, then abruptly turned toward the entryway upon hearing the next line.
In his coat pocket, the vibrating phone screen flashed "Central Hospital."